


Counting the Beat

by clavicular



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, Dom/sub, M/M, Power Play, Sex Toys, Superpower Sex, Telepathic Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clavicular/pseuds/clavicular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/3115.html?thread=2987051#t2987051">this prompt</a> on 1stclass_kink:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Erik uses a metal sex toy (dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, handcuffs, or maybe he just molds something) on Charles with his powers so he can watch from afar while fucking Charles senseless. Belts, buttons, and zippers are metal too, so I imagine Erik just sitting back in a chair smugly while he uses the metal on Charles' clothes/body to force Charles around and take his clothes off and such. Maybe there's a bit of power play going on where Charles tries to get in Erik's head and make him squirm and Erik disciplines him for it...</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Also written for the kink_bingo square "Masters, Doms, Slaves & Subs" (<a href="http://insane-duckfish.livejournal.com/388986.html">my card</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting the Beat

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [倒计时](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7236118) by [Go_MrCactus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go_MrCactus/pseuds/Go_MrCactus)



> Title from the song by the Swingers.

Charles is on his knees, head tilted back and breathing hard. His eyes flutter shut as Erik bends down, letting their lips brush. They’re not quite kissing, but Charles can almost taste him. He reaches up to pull Erik closer, but Erik catches his hands midair. His fingers are warm around the metal cuffs on Charles' wrists. Charles strains against the grip, wanting to feel it tighten, and Erik doesn't disappoint. He drags his teeth across Charles' lip, and then in one fluid movement, both Charles' hands are pinned against his chest. The metal cuffs clink together. Erik lets go and straightens up. Charles wants to stop him, but his hands are trapped, held magnetically in place.

Charles knows how he must look right now, sliding his tongue across his bottom lip. He misses the press of Erik's teeth, but it's worth it to watch Erik flush - not exactly a picture of composure himself. Neither of them has quite managed to get undressed yet, but Charles is at least getting there. He's long since lost his coat and vest, and his shirt is unbuttoned and hanging open. Erik, on the other hand, looks utterly disheveled - hair ruffled, tie askew - and he hasn't even taken his jacket off. The effect is _obscene_.

Erik takes something from his pocket and presses it into Charles' hands. It's a tub of Vaseline.

Charles laughs softly. "Were you planning this?"

Erik doesn't reply, but he thinks, _only ever since I met you._ Charles suspects 'plan' might not be quite the word. He doesn't know what Erik has in mind, but now Charles is imagining him imagining _this_ , and it takes his breath away.

Stepping backward, Erik releases his magnetic hold on the cuffs. Charles lets his hands fall to his side.

Erik walks over to the desk in the corner of the room and opens one of the drawers. He pulls out a long, metallic object and places it on the table. Charles shivers. It's long and thick and slightly curved, and there's no questioning what it's for.

"Two minutes," Erik says.

He pushes the desk's chair back and sits down. When Charles doesn't move, Erik smiles slowly. Charles feels his zipper dragging down.

"One," Erik says. "Two."

Charles strips. There's no finesse to it, but he's halfway there already and it doesn't take long before the rest of his clothes are heaped in the middle of the floor. He can feel Erik's eyes on him the whole time. When Charles is done, he looks up expectantly at Erik. Erik glances down at his watch.

"Thirty-eight."

The metal dildo shifts slightly on the desk.

Charles curses. Vaseline.

It takes him another twenty seconds to figure out where he's dropped it, entirely forgotten in his haste to undress, and by then he can't afford to go slow. He smears Vaseline across the fingers of one hand and leans forward to brace the other on the floor. He looks up at Erik, their eyes locking. He pushes a finger inside himself. At the same time, he pushes inside Erik's mind.

The slick heat goes straight to Charles’ cock, and Erik shudders with the unexpected sensation. Charles grins in victory, sliding his finger out again, and then adding another. Erik’s lips part and Charles knows exactly what this is doing to him. Charles loves it, their joined minds echoing arousal and building on each other’s desire until it’s almost unbearable. Charles has about fifty seconds left, and that's enough time to have Erik _begging._

Then Erik’s eyes darken.

"Twelve," Erik says. “Eleven. Ten.”

Charles' jaw drops. "You can't-"

"Seven."

Charles jerks out of Erik's mind so quickly it almost hurts. He keeps fucking himself though, pace quick and uneven now. His heart is pounding, muscles tense in a way that is entirely counterproductive. He presses a third finger inside himself, whimpering softly.

"Time." Erik says.

Charles groans but doesn't stop, eyes fixed on the metal object lying on the table. The cuff constricts around his wrist. He wants to fight it, but it's easing his hand backwards and there's nothing he can do.

"Both hands on the floor," Erik says.

Charles obeys him. It would be pointless not to.

He shifts uncomfortably as Erik regards him from across the room. Erik's hand is resting ever-so-casually on the desk, and when he moves, his thumb brushes metal.

"I was going to take this slowly," he says thoughtfully.

The object rises, hovering for a second, and then glides across the room. It comes to a rest in front of Charles' face. It looks a whole lot thicker than it did before, and it crosses Charles' mind that maybe it _is_. His heart stutters. He goes to push the thing aside, but his hands are immobilized by the metal cuffs.

"I felt that, Charles."

Both cuffs narrow, buckling as they tighten around his wrist. Charles hisses.

"I thought I told you to keep your hands on the floor."

The dildo traces its way down his neck and across his chest, metal cold against his skin. The cuffs dig into his wrists, and Charles grits his teeth. It's not quite painful, but the point is clear enough. Erik is in control. He can make Charles do whatever he wants, and Charles can't stop him. Charles _won't_ stop him.

"Sorry," Charles gasps, and then, " _please_."

The cuffs relax. He fights the urge to try to rub his wrists. Erik must notice, because Charles feels the thrill that runs through him when Charles keeps his hands where they are.

"Better," Erik says, voice smug and heavy with arousal. It makes Charles' breath hitch.

Then the dildo pushes inside him, and Charles forgets about everything else.

It hurts, cold and unyielding as it thrusts into him, but not as much as he'd expected. Charles doesn't even think to wonder why, just concentrates on taking it. His body trembles as Erik fucks him, slow but relentless. There's no rhythm to it. Charles can't predict the next stroke, and it puts him completely on edge. He's tense and waiting and wanting _more_.

Charles whines and pushes back against the dildo. There's nothing physical to brace it, though, so it moves with him. He groans in frustration, dimly aware of Erik still watching him from behind the desk. Charles bites his lip and buries his face in his arm, the noises he's making getting louder and more urgent. Erik can never resist that, Charles thinks. It’s the only plan he’s capable of forming right now.

“You’re putting on a show, Charles,” Erik says, amused. "Keep in mind, the more I enjoy it, the longer I'm going to want it to last."

The dildo stops moving entirely.

Charles cries out, his hands straining uselessly against the metal cuffs.

"Erik! God, Erik _please_."

"Please what?" Erik asks, like he genuinely has no idea. He’s all wide-eyed and innocent, and Charles wants nothing more than to fuck the expression right off his face. He sends this thought to Erik, complete with detailed visions of just how he might do so. Along with it, Charles shares every inch of his urgent frustration, pressing the feeling into Erik's mind.

" _Charles_ ," Erik moans, and it's both a concession and a threat. Charles takes it as his cue to leave. There’s a sense of loss at the separation, this time. He knows Erik feels it too. They stare at each other across the room, both breathing heavily.

The dildo shifts inside Charles, but not the way he expected. Charles suddenly understands how it slid into him so easily. It was thinner. Now it's expanding, thickening inside him, and Charles can't help the way his hips jerk. He thinks he might be babbling.

Erik growls. "This is not as easy as it looks, Charles. I'd appreciate it if you kept still and stopped distracting me."

"Hng?" Charles says. It was meant to be something wittier, perhaps "I'm distracting _you?_ " but at this point Charles is proud to have even managed that.

He does keep still though, forcing himself not to move despite the building pressure inside him. Staying silent is more difficult; he can’t help the tiny gasps and whimpers he’s making. The dildo is so large inside him, and he doesn't know if he can take any more. But he wants to, wants it so badly it hurts. The sensation of fullness runs right through him, and he's helpless with it, desperate for the burning thrusts he's sure will follow.

The metal stops expanding, and Charles nearly sobs with relief. There's a pause, and Charles wants to ask if he's allowed to be distracting again. When he opens his mouth though, the metal starts _vibrating_ , and the question dies on his lips. He writhes, trying to escape the _sogoodtoomuch_ feel of it. Erik uses the metal like it's an extension of his own body and that's just how it feels. It's hard and unforgiving and alien, and yet it's _Erik_ , Erik inside him, Erik pulling him apart. And suddenly the vibration stops, and the dildo is just pounding in and out of him, rough and deep and exactly what Charles' body has been begging for.

"Don't come yet," Erik says.

That's all it takes, Charles is gone. He doesn’t even try to fight it, just lets the sensation overwhelm him.

Charles' arms give way, and he collapses onto the ground. Erik immediately releases his hold on the metal cuffs, and then a second later is at Charles' side, easing the dildo out of him.

"That wasn't fair," Charles murmurs, reaching out to thread his fingers through Erik's. "You know that's the one order I can't obey."

Opening his eyes would be too much effort, but Charles can hear the smile in Erik's voice.

"Why do you think I said it?”

Charles hums happily in response, then pulls a face as he realizes he’s lying in his own come.

“Ugh,” he says, rolling over.

He lets go of Erik’s hand and swipes at the stickiness clinging to his skin. Erik’s eyes go wide. It’s then that Charles remembers not everyone present has just had the most mind-blowing orgasm in history. Erik is still achingly hard.

“Let me,” he says, but Erik shakes his head.

“In a minute.”

Erik probably doesn’t mean him to see, but accompanying those words is the thought of Charles asleep and curled up in bed, Erik jerking himself off furiously in the adjoining bathroom.

Charles laughs. _Do you really think I’m letting you off that easily?_

Erik’s head snaps up, and Charles laughs again.

“One minute,” he says, letting his head fall back onto the floor. He groans. “No, make that two.”

Erik grins down at him, and reaches over to reclaim his hand.

“One,” Erik says. “Two.”


End file.
